


Become

by distractionpie



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: (see end notes for details), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Consent Issues, Dirty Talk, I have been writing this on and off for a freaking year wtf, M/M, Misunderstandings, Smut, have i ever written smut with Lieb that doesn't involve him monologuing?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 15:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16244720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: Joe's got secrets. He's not alone.





	Become

There were things in Joe’s pack that he was careful to hide.

To have them found would be ruinous.

Of course, alone neither suppressants nor scent masker were suspicious. You could get both army issue because the higher ups really didn’t want to deal with soldiers going into heats or ruts during combat (especially not when extended proximity created the risk of syncing up, one omega’s heat setting off the ruts of any alphas who might be near to due, who might in turn set off other near due omegas) and scent maskers to help conceal them from the enemy and minimise the levels of scent in tightly packed army quarters were practically required even if they were rarely used when off the lines. Even outside of war, the light use of either was an accepted part of polite society, a quick spray of scent masker to make sure people could only scent you if they were trying instead of having every mood obvious to the whole room and the occasional suppressant to delay a heat or rut until a more convenient time were simply part of life.

No, it was the doses that Joe has squirreled away in his pack that were a problem, enough maskers to drown out his scent entirely until he could be mistaken for a beta and enough suppressants to keep his heats at bay so that he could live like one too.

Joe hadn’t lied to his recruiter, but his hadn’t corrected the misapprehensions they’d made about him either.

Eighty percent of the population were getting that convenient, neutral ‘B’ for beta stamped on their forms and the staff at Joe’s nearest enlistment office hadn’t exactly felt the need to check closely to check they were using it correctly. After all, alphas announced themselves and everybody knew that the rare-spirited omegas who wanted to help with the war effort would go to the medical corps or ask for logistics positions - the delicate nature of an omega meant that even the thought of the paratroops would distress them, it went beyond imagining to think one would ask to be assigned there.

It was easy to maintain the deception once his was in.

Even as a youth he’d never quite fit the mould of an omega, Joe was never genuinely docile or charmingly coy, and although he sometimes stumbled into sweet he always found himself hastily backtracking from that because the praise he got for being so was never worth being mistaken for a properly submissive omega and all of the expectations and impositions that came with that.

When he’d left Boston he’d asked for a generous prescription of maskers and suppressants from his doctor, citing his concern that it might take him some time to find a new doctor in San Francisco; and when he’d arrived in San Francisco he’d quickly found himself a back street Doctor who was also willing to supply more than the recommended amounts, and so at eighteen he’d found ways to cover up everything that might give away his designation as omega and slipped into a beta social role that had fit him far more comfortably than his natural one ever had.

It hasn’t always been easy, of course. There was only so long he could stay on suppressants without needing to take a break and allow a heat to happen and more than one person he’d dated had lost patience with him wearing a high dose of scent maskers even in private, but by the time he’d joined the army Joe had things under control.

Enough so that he could fuck around with David Webster without worrying about being caught, and would have been confident in the safety of his secret even if Webster hadn’t been about as perceptive as a brick.

And it’s that confidence in Web’s utter obliviousness that inspires Joe’s plan.

They can’t shower together, Joe can just about get away with communal showers by reapplying his scent masker as soon as he steps out of the water, but showering with somebody would give him away. He can surprise Webster on the way out though, and he’s already grinning at the thought of catching Web of guard, how flustered and defensive he’ll get but how quickly he always gives in to Joe.

It’s easy enough to be sure to catch him alone, Webster is hilariously touchy about communal showers, probably because he grew up so rich he’s never had to share anything before.

The temporary shower block is cold, Joe sure as fuck wouldn’t want to be naked in there, but that’s probably why Webster has chosen to go now - if it’s unpleasant he doesn’t have to worry that other people will want to use it. Which is perfect for what Joe has in mind.

He waits in the shadow of one of the corners, he doesn’t want to surprise Web in the shower and risk ending up under the spray, and it doesn’t take Web long to come out, towel wrapped tight around his hips and he runs his fingers through his hair to shake water droplets loose.

And that’s when Joe notices it. Under the nose-achingly sharp smell of army issue lye soap, Joe can smell an alpha.

He can smell an alpha even though he checked before he came in that nobody else is around.

Could somebody be approaching the tent? As a general rule nobody in the company much cared about casual fraternisation, but getting caught in the act, getting caught in the act in the communal shower tent no less, would be pretty embarrassing.

Putting his original intentions on pause, Joe focuses in on the scent, lighter than most alphas’ scents but still clearly identifiable and coming from over in Webster’s direction.

Coming from Webster’s direction and getting strong with every step Webster takes across the distance between them.

Joe frowns. Fuck knows the cold could do funny things to the scenes, and depth perception by scent had never been one of his stronger talents, but he knows how to smell somebody standing right next to him and Webster is close now.

Close enough that Joe can lean in and scent Web’s throat, and then it’s unmistakable.

"You...” Joe reels back. “You're an alpha!"

All of the colour drains from Web’s face, but Joe is too busy putting distance between them. "You manipulative shit!" he says. Joe would never drop his guard and let an alpha close enough to claim him, but being a beta had made Webster safe, had made Joe careless and even tempted by risky behaviors he’d never have considered otherwise. How many times had he had Webster’s lips on his throat, never touching his bonding gland but still too close for comfort now?

“I...” Webster starts to stammer, but Joe shakes his head.

“No. No, fuck, what the fuck, you lying, sneaking bastard!” Joe was so sure that he’d been careful to keep his scent thoroughly masked at all times, but he must have slipped once, inadvertently let Webster catch a sniff of omega pheromones, and then Webster had planned this. Luring Joe into trusting him, into thinking they were equal partners, until he grew careless enough that Webster could trick him into a bonding.

There was no breaking an alpha-omega bond. He could run and he could hide but if an alpha claimed him the bond would always be there and it would always be believed that as an omega he had wanted it because alphas might spend their lives spreading their seed without care for the consequences but all omegas were supposed to long to be owned. Sure, Joe wasn’t the only person who thought that was fucked up and the world was moving on but not nearly fast enough.

“Lieb, I--”

But Webster’s words falter when Joe’s fist slams into his mouth, it’s a good clean hit, splitting Web’s lower lip so that Joe’s knuckles come away bloody, but instead of feeling triumphant Joe finds he immediately wants to scrub the traces from his hand. There’s not enough blood for the scent to be identifiable, but it’s still a mark of Webster and the last thing Joe wants right now is to be marked by a lying alpha shithead like Web.

 

*

 

If nothing else, at least Joe’s punch sent a message, because Webster stays the hell away from him after that.

Joe hadn’t really expected him to. A guy who went to the lengths that Webster did to deceive him wasn’t typically a guy who would just accept a rejection.

But instead, the only thing proving that Webster’s whole existence wasn’t a bad dream were the few times Joe overheard the other guys remarking on the fact Web constantly seemed to have a hundred and one reasons to be busy elsewhere.

Joe was thankful.

Not to Webster, he didn’t deserve thanks for not being as big of an asshole as he could be in response to a situation of his own making. But he was thankful for the circumstance. If Web were around then Joe’s anger would stay on boil, but the space let it simmer - there’d be no forgiving and forgetting from him but he could process.

Webster was a shithead, sure, and Joe would never find any kind of alpha manipulations acceptable, but Joe’s dick was less principled.

Despite the anger, there's something hot about the idea of having had an alpha obeying him. Joe’s anger doesn’t erase the sudden thrill of knowing he had an alpha suck his dick, an alpha bend over and let Joe fuck him, even if said alpha had a hidden agenda. Joe had never even heard of an alpha taking it, they just didn’t do that, and an alpha taking it from an omega was the stuff of deeply deviant whispers, not something he’d ever thought could actually happen.

But Webster had.

Webster had one more than one occasion, had done it eagerly --or at least seemingly eagerly-- and perhaps it was all part of his manipulation but that didn’t mean Joe couldn’t savour the memories. After all, he’d got to fuck Web, but in the end the only thing Web had got from his schemes was a split lip.

That felt something like victory.

 

*

 

When he finally runs into Web again it’s while checking out some houses that have been cleared of civilians but still need a tally of rooms and beds before it can be decided who’ll be assigned where. 

He thinks it’s an accident, Web looks surprised to see Joe when he walks into the room, but then Webster is a lying asshole so maybe he’s just faking his surprise. If he’d retreated Joe might have offered him the benefit of the doubt, but instead he speaks.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Webster accuses, which is bullshit. Joe would have avoided Webster but Webster had started avoiding him first and rightly so. His lip is all healed up now, but Joe wouldn’t hesitate to split it again if Webster pushes his luck.

“Yes,” he says, pauses and then adds, “Alpha,” alpha without a hint of the deference that usually comes with that term of address, just all of his fury and disgust at Webster’s deceit.

For the first time Joe wonders how he didn't suspect sooner, when Webster visibly snaps, crowds him against the wall and growls,  "Yes, I'm an alpha,” and Joe had known he was right but hearing Webster’s confession, his voice dipping into that deep alpha snarl, made it feel real, “What are you going to do about it?”

“Get off me,” Joe spits, and is surprised when Webster does back off. What is his game?

“C’mon Lieb, now you know I’m an alpha,” he says, something twisted in his tone that Joe can’t quite identify. “But you haven’t said anything, you haven’t done anything, what are you up to?”

What is he up to? As if Joe were the scheming bastard who’d created this situation. “I’m thinking you should fuck off,” Joe retorts. “And be lucky if you don’t get what’s coming to you.” He could definitely punch Web again, but if he’s walking around with visible injuries then somebody might ask about them as Joe’s pretty sure that if Web talks there aren’t many people who would take the side of a difficult omega over an alpha complaining about them.

“If that’s what you’re playing at then you should get on with it,” Webster snarls. “I’m an alpha and I let you fuck me because I like getting fucked. I'm sorry that you find that disgusting or something, but you liked it just fine before you knew I was an alpha, so either get over it or just tell the rest of the guys and kick my ass for being a pervert or a pansy of an alpha or whatever it is you're thinking, but stop stringing this out." 

“What?”

“You heard me, either blab or let it go,” Webster says, as if he hasn’t even considered how badly talking about the matter would likely backfire on Joe. “I know what I was doing, what I want, I don’t care if you think it’s wrong. I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of holding this over me, but I’m not stupid enough to think playing along will keep you quiet forever.”

“Oh yeah? You expect me to believe that’s your reason, that you just wanted me to fuck you?” Joe snarls. That rant doesn't match up to what he thought Webster had been planning. But this is the most open and out of control he's seen Webster, even in sex he's been carefully controlled (and now Joe knows that was about more than just staying quiet and not being caught fraternizing), this is Webster giving into to his alpha instincts, but he's not posturing or trying to push Joe into submission, this is a defensive sort of anger. Webster is right, if Joe told the others what Webster was hiding, what he’d allowed Joe to do to him, there’d certainly be trouble. Although if Web retaliated by explaining that he’d done it because he’d found out that Joe is an omega there’s be trouble for both of them. Still, it’s a card Joe hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. “You’re telling me you actually wanted it? You liked having me fuck you?”

“Why else would I have let you?” Webster scoffs, and was he really pretending what he’d done couldn’t easily have been used to trap Joe? Or could it be that Web had genuinely been as convinced by Joe’s deception as Joe had been of his?

The possibility saps a little of Joe’s anger.

Could Web really be as dense as Joe had always assumed he is? Could he have picked Joe to release tension with out of chance? But it made no sense for an alpha to let a beta fuck them, that wasn’t what alpha’s did, so Web must have had some other reason. But Web had already been passing himself off as a beta when they’d met. The lies couldn’t have begun as an attempt against Joe, deceiving Joe was just a side effect of Webster convincing the army he was a beta - despite the fact everyone knew that an alpha was the best thing to be in the military, their ideal recruits, fawned over and prioritised for promotion and rewards. But why?

“Prove it!”

“What?” Webster sags a little, anger giving way to confusion.

“You did all this to get fucked?” Joe presses. “Then show me how much you want it.” Whatever game he’s playing, Webster’s alpha pride will surely force him to show his hand now.

“Lieb...”

“Show. Me,” he demands, putting every ounce of command he’s capable of into the words as he shoves as Webster. 

He waits for Webster to push back, to remind him that Web is the alpha here and society dictates that he gives the orders.

Instead, Webster takes another step back, shrugs of his jacket, then tucks his thumbs under the hem of his shirt, tugging it up so slow that it can’t be mistaken for anything other than a deliberate show.

For a moment it’s artful, a slow reveal of skin, a hint of tan to it rather than the milky pale of their earlier encounters, Webster has clearly skived off to take advantage of the sun at some point while Joe has been avoiding him, but then Web tries to pull it over his head and it catches. Webster hasn’t undone enough buttons and he has to pull it twice, hard, before he frees himself. He’s grimacing a little as he tosses it to the floor, reaches up and rubs at his scalp like perhaps a few hairs were torn out in the process, such a casual gesture that for a moment Joe almost forgets the lies Webster told and laughs like he would have done before.

Then Web looks towards the mattress, rolls his shoulders then turns to stare at Joe head on, the challenge in his gaze a reminder than Webster isn’t the naive, easy-going beta that Joe had been having so much fun with, but an alpha who was willing to lie about his nature and intentions to get what he wanted, that all this was likely just another layer of the manipulation.

“So what? You want to fuck,” Joe snapped. “All that makes you is a typical alpha. But if you want me to fuck you I need more.” If Webster could surrender his power to Joe, alpha status be damned, then maybe Joe could believe that this was what he really wanted, even if it wouldn’t erase the question of his motives. But he won’t, that’s not what alphas do. Except Web is frowning, looks like he’s really thinking hard, and then he seems to come do a decision.

“You want to know what I want?” he mutters, low enough that he’s surely talking to himself more than he is Joe. “Fine.”

He straightens his shoulders and there’s no teasing seduction now as he all but tears the last of his clothes away dumping them in a careless heap on the floor.

Joe hadn’t been expecting that. He looks Web over, acutely aware of the imbalance between them, Webster utterly on display while Joe still has a thick layer of maskers and all of his uniform on, if not quite up to standard, and feels arousal curl deep in his belly. Whatever might have happened before, Joe has control of Web now, Webster’s defensive anger is like a string for Joe to pull him around on and Joe feels like he’s won, like he could walk away now having restored the balance by manipulating Web like Web had tricked him.

But Web doesn’t stop there.

He had always been a little reticent in their earlier encounters, interested enough but preferring to follow Joe’s lead; at the time Joe had put it down to a lack of experience with men, now he thinks it might all have been part of Web’s attempt to pass as a beta. Apparently the hesitance is gone now he’s dropped the act, because he doesn’t wait for the usual guidance or encouragement before walking over to the mattress, doesn’t even wait for Joe to finish processing the sight of him.

And he doesn’t sit down when he gets there. 

Webster settles on his hands and knees, presenting with his back arched and his ass pushed out for Joe's viewing pleasure, cock already half hard where it hangs between his muscular thighs. Except for how high he holds his head as he looked back over his shoulder it’s a classic submission pose, centuries of history and art teaching that it was how an omega should be before an alpha, but here Web is breaking all the rules by offering it to him.

“This is what I want,” Webster says, the arch of his back deepening as he twists to look Joe in the eyes. “The question is are you still man enough to give it to me now you know I’m an alpha?”

The challenge has Joe’s blood boiling in his veins and maybe getting closer isn’t the smart move but he needs it. People often said that the way to make a recalcitrant omega embrace their status was to expose them to an alpha's sex pheromones. Their bodies, it was claimed, would take over and they wouldn't be able to resist their natural urge to submit. But Webster clearly hasn’t reapplied any scent masker lately, he’s reeking of alpha masculinity and lust, and yet all Joe wants to do is pin him down and rut against him until it's Joe's scent that he's covered in.

Walking away would be the safe and sensible thing, rejecting Web even if it means leaving him thinking that Joe lacks the balls to meet his challenge, but instead Joe touches him.

No, Joe grabs him.

"You know something, Web, I'm not surprised nobody suspected your secret. I've never seen an ass this sweet on an alpha before," he snarls, digging his fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh, giving in to his roiling mess of lust and anger.

If Webster wants Joe to fuck him, then Joe is going to wreck him.

He pulls Web’s cheeks apart, holding him open and exposed, baring Web’s hole --an alpha’s hole, so small and tight it looks like it could barely take a finger let alone a cock-- and Joe spits, half for the slick and half for the release of years of anger and disdain at goddamn alphas who thought they were above him and he’d bend over whenever they wanted. Then does it again just for fun when he sees the way Web’s hole twitches as it hits. He’d already known Webster was unusually sensitive --at least by beta standards, Joe doesn’t know enough about alpha biology to know what it means now-- but Joe had never taken the time to really examine his reactions. Now he finds himself overcome by curiosity, and an oddly scientific eagerness to make note of how an alpha reacted to the sort of treatment that Joe had always been taught was reserved for omegas and betas.

Even knowing he’s an alpha, there’s a strange vulnerability to Web now, spread out and at Joe’s mercy in a way that alpha’s are never supposed to be. 

But that doesn’t make Joe hesitate to thrust two fingers in, he’s never been one for patience at the best of times and he’s still so angry with Web that it feels like a great show of control for him to take things this slow and not start with three and see if he could make Webster cry out, but then he watches the way Webster's hole stretches so easily around his fingers, opening for him even without the natural assistance an omega would get from their own slick, and wonders if he should have just gone for it anyway since Webster apparently wants to be fucked so bad he’s willing to pretend to be a beta to get it.

“You’re easy for this, huh,” he sneers, taking to the thought as soon as it crosses his mind, scissoring his fingers and feeling how little resistance there is.  “All that power and all the privilege that comes with being an alpha but you gave it all up to pretend to be a beta just so you could get fucked.” 

“Lieb...” Web protests.

“What, is that not the reason?” Joe jabs. Will he get a confession after all? Not that it would change his plans now. Webster had taken so much from him with his lies and Joe wants payback. Even if he has to take it out of Web’s ass.

“Well I’m not getting fucked right now, am I?” Webster bristles, tensing up. “What are you waiting for?”

What is he waiting for? Joe’s not even sure. Part of him wants to make Webster beg for it, wants another layer of proof that Web is letting himself be used like this because he wants it and this isn’t all part of some grand plan to trick Joe, there’s a layer of uncertainty too, that Web might change his mind if Joe delays too long in giving him what he wants, and Joe can’t pass up the chance to be inside a willing alpha, this time knowingly and able to fully appreciate the intoxicating depravity of them both taking the role that’s the opposite of what society dictates.

If giving Web the satisfaction is the price Joe’s gotta pay to get his dick in him, then it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

He keeps one hand on Web as works his belt open with the other, opens his fly and pulls his cock out. If somebody walked in on them it would still be blatantly obvious that he was fraternizing just as much as Webster but he won’t be so on show. It’s a practical choice but at least his in own mind he can’t deny that the discovery that Web is an alpha and how easily he could have taken advantage of that has left him feeling too exposed and right now he wants the extra feeling of power over Web that the imbalance creates. He lines himself up carefully and pushes in slow, relishing the feeling of hot and  _ tight _ and jesus fuck  _ tighter still  _ because Web is an alpha but he’s opening up for Joe anyway, with tiny jerks of his hips that give away how needy he is for more. 

And this, this is what kept him coming back to Web even when being in a warzone made it almost too much effort, because Webster’s body knows what it wants and when Joe’s sunk all the way in he savours the feeling, traces a finger around Web’s rim, feeling it clench like Webster is trying to drag him deeper, like he wants more.

"You ever wish I had a knot Webster?" Joe taunts, "Wish I could tie that ass and really fill you up? Or is it omega dick that does it for you?"

“Omega? Why wou-- ...oh.” Webster twists then, staring at Joe with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “You?”

“Me,” Joe says, and for the first time he truly believes perhaps Webster didn’t know. For all his book learning Webster was never that good at reading people, if things hadn’t happened as they had Joe would have pegged Web as the last person to figure out his secret, even if it does seem so outlandish that the guy hiding his alpha status would just so happen to pick the one beta in the company who is actually an omega.

“That’s why you were angry,” Webster cuts in. “You thought I knew, that I was playing some trick on you...” 

Of course he had. What else could he have assumed? Even the feeling of Web beneath him, of the way his hole squeezes and flutters around Joe’s dick as he tries to adjust to the feeling of having Joe in him with so little prep, doesn’t entirely counteract the years Joe spent taking for granted that alpha’s didn’t submit and they they certainly didn’t get fucked. “Sure as shit seemed more likely than you wanting this for real,” Joe admits.

“I didn’t realise,” Webster says, shock still threading his tone. “I... I had no idea. You always seemed so...”

Seemed so what? Joe wonders. What stupid degrading omega stereotype had Webster been expecting him to live up to? 

Joe pushes that aside, doesn’t want to dwell now on that feeling of terrible vulnerability that had accompanied learning the truth.

"Yeah, that's right. Big fancy alpha like you isn't the only one who knows how to dose up on maskers," he says, "Bet you never even thought about that did you? Figured you were special, oh so clever keeping your little secret, and that anyone not showing status had to be a beta.”

He pulls back and feels Webster clutching against the withdrawal and how can he not slam back into that tight heat, fast and rough but oh so good, when they both want it so bad.

"How do you like it now?” Joe snarls, “How do you like knowing you've been letting an  _ omega  _ fuck you?"

He’s expecting defensiveness but, "You think I care? I'm an alpha and I've been taking it from you, Liebgott. Doesn't matter you're not a beta, wouldn't matter if you were an alpha too under those fucking scent maskers, not when I’ve got your cock in my ass!”

Jesus, the last thing Joe needs right now is to be told  _ that _ . Web’s ass feels like it was made for his dick and Webster might be impatient but if Joe rushes this he’s not going to last and he refuses not to get everything he can out of this opportunity.  

Indulging a curiosity, Joe slides his hand up Webster's shaft, and now he knows to expect it it's easy for him to find the slight bump at the base where Webster's knot would form if he weren't taking such heavy doses of suppressants. "You ever been fucked while not on suppressants Web?" he asks.

"A few times, with betas," Webster says uncomfortably.

"Did you knot? Could you?" Lieb wonders, mind already racing with images of Webster tying his own hand, or knotting without even a touch to his cock, getting so worked up he ended up swelling and spilling into thin air. There's something maddeningly hot about the thought of a wasted knot, of Web's alpha biology coming in second to his need to get fucked hard and filled deep.

“No. Well... I never have before. But most of those times were fast; I don’t know if...”

Fast... no, that was no good for answering his question, an alpha couldn’t knot in a hurry even in a traditional coupling, that just wasn’t how things worked. But what a thought...

Knot-tease. The phrase was thrown at omegas to make reasonable caution seem prudish, frigid, selfish, but Joe wants to turn the words on their head. He could make them his own, give Webster not quite enough, just as much as would make him beg for it; have him on his back so Joe could watch the way he grew desperate, see his knot forming and then the way he’d spend over his own stomach, thick and messy and utterly wasted except for Joe’s amusement.

Or maybe Joe could let Web think he’d be getting what he needed right up until the last moment, ride him and stop just short so when Web finally popped a knot it wouldn’t be in Joe but it would be because of him, for him, Webster swollen and aching and so close to what all alphas wanted but knowing he’d get no relief because Webster had picked Joe and Joe was never going to be a good little omega for any alpha. He’d endured years of alphas who acted like finding a hole to knot in was all that mattered, like they couldn’t control themselves once their cocks got involved and Joe wanted to use that against them, wreck Web by depriving him of the one thing all alpha’s craved. Not now, but one day, Joe would take the chance to ride him hard and put him away wet, Web’s knot throbbing and him utterly at Joe’s mercy.

This isn’t the time for fantasy though, not when Web is clearly done waiting, turns his head to look over his shoulder and, "Fuck me," he demands, all alpha snarl. That tone has never done shit for Joe before, posturing and macho-alpha orders just pissing him off, but an alpha wanting that, ordering that, it's obscene and scandalous and it goes right to his cock.

It would be impossible to refuse.

Web takes it well, as Joe starts to find a rhythm, takes it like he wants it, like he needs it, just like he always has even though a small part of Joe had been convinced since the revelation that he’d imagined Webster’s eagerness.

For a while he loses himself in it, unable to focus on anything but how good Webster feels around and under him, the way Web is never still, always trying to take more and now he has nothing left to hide his efforts are accompanied by little rumbling growls, the noises textbook alpha even as he's urging Joe to fuck him harder, that Joe wants to turn into moans.

With that in mind he shifts his angle a little, is rewarded as Webster’s growl breaks off and shifts into sweet sigh, but that doesn’t hold Joe’s focus, can’t, not when Webster bows his head, exposing the back of his neck to Joe in a way that makes his mouth water at the submissive posture but more importantly the sight of the bare expanse of skin either side of his spine where an omega would have the glands that triggered bonding hormones.

Only their bonded alpha could touch an omega’s mating glands. For an alpha to so much as brush their fingertips near the neck of an omega they weren’t bonded to was an excess of intimacy that would likely be taken as threatening, and the taboo was so strong that it had carried over to non-omegas too - any contact of the area where mating glands would be was unacceptable.

Joe leans forward and nips.

The full-body shudder that runs through Web is all the vindication he needs for the lies. Webster is the vulnerable one now and he knows it, that’s the only explanation for how badly he’s affected by this, and even though Web’s an alpha, can’t bond like this, it still feels shockingly intimate for Joe to have his mouth there. Joe doesn’t quite dare press hard enough to leave a mark, that would just be wrong, but he drags his lips across the skin and feels Webster shudder at the touch.

“L-Lieb...” and oh there’s nothing alpha at all about that pleading gasp of his name, it’s like Joe has fucked the alpha right out of him and isn’t that a thought.

"I could have you as my pretty mate," he muses, turning his head so his mouth is pressed up against the side of Webster’s throat, where it’s safe to bite. "Mark you up," he continues, "Let everybody know who you belong to."

It would be so easy to get caught when there’s no lock on the door, hardly anything protecting their privacy except for the fact everybody is busy getting ready to settle in the town for a few days, but, if they were caught, nobody would suspect Joe’s secret.

If anything, from the way Webster is panting beneath him, an onlooker would guess their secrets were the opposite way around. “If people knew you were on the suppressants I bet they would think you were an omega,” Joe speculates out loud. “And I know what people think of omegas, bet they'd wonder why you were taking them when you could be getting tied and knocked up," he runs a hand over the coarse hair on Webster's stomach, careful to avoid his dick because Joe wants Webster focused on  _ his  _ cock right now, "A coupla babies to soften you up good, keep you sweet."

The thought of Webster his, bonded, owned, claimed, all the things Joe had worried this might lead to but with him as the one in control makes him digs his teeth in deeper, hard enough that it will leave a mark and Web must know it too because he whines, tries to pull away and Joe laughs as he lets Web go. "Or if you’re going to be difficult about it maybe I won't bite you. Maybe I'll just find a way to breed you, fuck some pups into you and you can go out with a pregnant belly full of my babies and no bondmark on you like the slut that you are Web. Everyone will see you and know what you've been doing; that alpha or not, you're just a dirty fuckin’ whore.”

It feels so good to let out every filthy, vicious thing that’s ever been hissed at him due to his nature, claim the words for himself but Joe can feel the slight coil of tension in Webster's shoulders, knows he's in danger of pushing too far. His anger at alphas and his constant frustration with Webster might overlap, but they aren’t the same. How can they be when Webster is breaking all the rules to give him this? "Or maybe we'll go someplace far away where none of it will matter. Where nobody will care and I can fuck you all day and all night--”

And he can feel the response to that, the way Webster clenches around him, so tight it’s almost impossible for Joe to pull back for another thrust, especially when Web is arching his hips up to keep Joe close, back muscles rippling as he drops his shoulders, each shift in his posture more of a surrender than the last.

“You like that? Some people want courtship, want diamond rings or expensive gifts; but you just want to get fucked, have your tight little alpha hole stuffed with my cock.”

And Web’s head jerks, a sloppy imitation of a nod that’s all he can manage when Joe is rocked his body with every thrust, but Joe recognises the motion for what it is and fuck if Web’s acquiescence isn’t nearly as hot as the sex itself.

“Y’know if people knew alphas were this tight everyone would want to fuck one,” but Webster is his, picked out despite his blockers, suppressants, and lies. Whatever twists this paths has taken, whatever concerns he’d had about Webster’s intentions, it had been his choice to pursue Web and if Joe can have him like this, on his own terms, then he’s not giving him up. 

Even with his own heavy dose of suppressants, so strong they shouldn’t just keep the heats away but tamp down all that's omega about his arousal, Joe can feel himself getting slick, but the power of having Webster beneath him beats any time he’s gotten fucked and the natural order of things can go to hell.

There are pretty proper omegas who would tear each other’s hair out fighting for the chance to get a feel of Webster’s dick inside them if they ever saw it but they’re never going to because Webster is a fucking cockslut, rocking back against Joe’s dick like it’s the only thing in the world he’s living for and so when Web reaches for his cock Joe grabs his arms instead, pulling them behind his back so that Webster falls forward, face pressed against the sheets and helpless. "Nuh-uh, you're gonna come just like this," he orders, using his grip to angle Web so that he can slide a little bit deeper. "From me fucking you, from omega cock." Truthfully Joe doesn't even know if alphas can come like that, he’s never heard anything like it, never met an alpha who didn’t make things all about his cock, and every time they’ve been together previously he’s given Web a hand to speed things along, but Webster doesn't argue or fight against Joe’s restraining grip, just growls and clenches so tight it's almost painful.

He stops wasting energy on talking then, puts all his strength and focus into fucking Web breathless and is rewarded not long after as Web’s muscles get tighter and his legs start to shake. They’ve fooled around for long enough that Joe knows that means Web is close to the edge and he knows all too feel that when Web does come he’s going clench and mewl, voice cracking with how overwhelmed orgasm makes him, and Joe is going to be a goner too because it’s so damn hot and even hotter coming from an alpha.

Sure enough, all it takes is him squeezing at Web’s wrists and Web is pulsing around him, hips jerking and although Web’s body is in the way just the thought of his thick alpha seed smearing across the sheets, wasted for Joe, and from there it’s impossible not to think about how much more there’ll be if he can get Webster to knot, how long Web will last and how much more sensitive he might be as Joe fucks him through it and that’s all Joe can take, letting his weight drop onto Web’s back as he buries himself deep a final time and stays there, filling Web with everything he’s got. 

In their previous hookups Joe’s always pulled out once he’s done but this time he decides that just because he doesn’t have a knot doesn't mean he can't keep enjoying it, rocking his hips up against the soft cushion of Web's ass, and pressing his face to Web’s neck, inhaling deeply and feeling some deep instinctual pleasure at the scent of sated alpha. Joe’s still wearing too much scent masker for his own scent to rub off on Webster and that’s probably the for the best but he can’t help but feel a twinge of instinctual annoyance at the fact that if Web doesn’t re-apply his masker everyone will be able to smell his satisfaction but they won’t knew who to credit for it, just how good Joe gave it to him.

He doesn't withdraw until he's almost completely soft and the feel of Webster wrapped around him has grown uncomfortable. He wishes now that he’d removed a little more clothing so that he could relish the feeling of skin on skin, but his common sense tells him it’s for the best. As it is, he can change his clothes and it will be hard for anyone to guess what he’s been doing. If he’d undressed then he’d be getting Webster’s scent all over his skin with no buffer and without a shower and more scent masker than he can really spare he’d be left smelling like well-fucked alpha which would almost certainly raise awkward questions.

He rolls off Web and onto the mattress, takes a moment to tuck himself back in even though it’s a little uncomfortable when he’s still so sensitive, but it’s nothing compared to how wonderfully he’s wrecked Web who is still boneless on the mattress, legs spread so that Joe can see that that vice tight alpha hole, so pristine when Web had first bared himself, is flushed and twitching now but Web is too stretched to close all the way and keep a trickle of Joe’s cum from spilling out, evidence that Joe has marked him, claimed him, inside and out.

Webster might be an alpha, but nobody could fake his pleasure or his well fucked stupor, and while fucking an alpha might not be safe it was too good for Joe to give up.

He sits up, grabs a blanket and tosses it in Web’s direction because he’s shivering a little as the sweat dries, checks himself out in the small mirror on the room’s dresser. He looks respectable enough, although anybody with a nose is going to be able to guess what he’s been up to from ten yards away. He’d dumped his pack downstairs though, can easily go and change into something that won’t give him away.

He’ll still need to check out the rest of the house then report in, but it shouldn’t be too hard to delay enough to give Web time to pull himself back together, he’s already turning over and fuck those still flushed cheeks, the dazed look in his eyes, the only thing keeping Joe from going right back over there for round two is the knowledge that there’ll be a lot more opportunities for repeat performances if they aren’t caught.

And there’s no way that Joe is passing up the opportunity to have this again. He might be an omega and Webster an alpha and he has no idea if war is going to drag on forever or draw to a close soon, but that fuck was too good for him not to find a way to make this work.

**Author's Note:**

> The consent issues tag reflects that fact that both Lieb & Web are presenting as different a/b/o types to what they really are which could be deemed to undermine their mutual consent. Additionally, at one point Lieb theorises that Webster's deception was targeted in an attempt to manipulate him into consenting when he would have refused if he had all the facts, although he later realises that the timings undermine that theory.


End file.
